


Caged Canary

by orphan_account



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Thieves, I'm on my bullshit again. if nobody else is gonna write this ship then I will., Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22178284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Cordelia Ravus, twenty-one, lady of the Cliftlands, loses her noble seat to a coup. She was little more than a puppet to begin with, so she wonders in her flight if her people are better off anyway.She finds herself captured and brought before a rumored- even legendary- king of thieves, descended(so they say) from the crow god Aeber. Mercy and honor are the last things she expects, but they are what she receives, along with a second lease at life.As she settles in at the Crow's Nest, Cordelia finds that the misfits and rogues there are more honorable and honest than most of the nobles she was manipulated by. And the elusive king of thieves isn't nearly what she expected.Cordelia/Therion, AU fic. Will likely feature other ships and characters as it proceeds, but only those relevant will be tagged.
Relationships: Cordelia Ravus & Therion, Cordelia Ravus/Therion, Others to be added
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I've discussed this AU on and off with my friend Blackie for quite some time, and I think I finally feel ready to try and write it into the light of day. I have it outlined roughly, so I'll be updating as often as I can. I plan to knock out as much of it early on as I am able while I have the writing steam, since my depression can be quite capricious.
> 
> Please note that while I do proofread my work, I have a literacy disability and sometimes still miss things. I ask for your patience with this- I'm doing my best!

Cordelia shuddered.

She had left the border of her homeland behind her hours ago. She wandered aimlessly for days before that, unsure and uncertain what to do. Eventually she had decided that it would be safest to leave the Cliftlands behind altogether for the time being.

She was deeper in the mountains now, deep in canyons and ravines and jagged pine forests. She pulled her dressing gown more tightly around her. It was colder here. She had no time to pack or even find shoes when the fighting broke out. Heathcote had ushered her out of the manor and made a distraction of himself so she could flee the city. She squeezed her eyes shut tight at the thought- of having left him alone to face members of the uprising.

...She knew she was not an effective ruler. She was clumsy at best, still so young. She came into power when she was not even twelve, twisted and manipulated for years by other nobles of the Cliftlands Territory into increasing the wealth gap between the classes, completely unaware of the damage it did. She knew she was not popular- and she didn’t blame the populace for resenting her. She had been working since her seventeenth birthday to try and undo the damage, but to little effect. She was hardly more than a puppet of the older nobles by now.

And that, she supposed, was why there had been a coup. Led by a ruthless man with a cruel smile. The people from the slums had come so suddenly, burning and battering everything they came across.

Heathcote was the only one she could ever trust after her parents’ death. He was as much a parent to her as her biological father had been. He consoled her, protected her. More than one assassination attempt by the other nobility had been foiled because of him. It was only because of his support that Cordelia had gained the courage to fight against the strings that had rendered her a marionette. Little good it did either of them in the end, she mused as she carefully stepped around some sharp gravel.

Her bare feet ached, as did her empty stomach. She hadn’t eaten properly, not since dinner the night she fled Bolderfall. A kind maid who was also fleeing had shoved a half a loaf of bread into her arms as she helped Cordelia and Heathcote escape the manse and get into town. Cordelia had eaten it halfway through the night on the road, and nothing since.

There had been stream water, at least, so she was somewhat hydrated. She knew it was not always the safest, especially without boiling first. But with no alternative in sight she could not bring herself to care. There was no time or luxury for her to be spoiled or picky.

She had never liked being spoiled or picky anyway. She was, for all accounts, a princess- but her parents had been practical, active people. Much better rulers than she. And if nothing else they had instilled in her a sense of wanting to _earn_ her luxuries before they died. Cordelia did not think she did very well, but she was at least accommodating with the staff and guardsmen, and kind to those around her. Understanding of things like illness, sudden changes to schedules or meals. Even if the greater populace had not liked her, the staff had some fondness for her. Perhaps that was part of why she had been able to escape. The kind footmen and maids...she hoped to death they were unhurt.

Wherever she was now was northwest of her territory. She had descended into a canyon via an overgrown path and continued along it. What pathways were here were overgrown, thin- but used enough to be made out even in the dark. People lived here, but perhaps not many.

She recalled the stories of the regions past the canyons and ravines that bordered her lands. A grand thief king who had accrued so much stolen wealth that he now ruled from a stronghold in the wildest lands of the mountains. A son of Aeber, the crow god, the patron of thieves, of wanderers, of the lost.

Still, if she turned east at the next crossing, she could eventually make her way to the northern woodlands. They were ruled mostly by an alliance of several larger tribes. They could not take her home back for her and she would not ask them to- but they may be able to offer her a place to stay, if nothing else. She could keep quiet, keep her head down and hopefully be out of these dangerous wilds before the next day was out.

Something cracked. A twig, perhaps a branch. Cordelia paused and looked about her. The sun was nearing its noon height, she could see it through the branches of the thin and spindly pines. She had not heard any birds or other wildlife in about an hour now, and...

It was only as a hand closed over her mouth that she realized she should have been suspicious of the quiet.

Cordelia’s scream was already muffled and one of her arms twisted painfully behind her back. She struggled, thrashed, but to no avail. She quickly tired and ceased moving, trying to catch her breath. Hunger and fatigue had caught up with her and now she was caught by...

A skinny man with a grizzled countenance stepped out of the shadows of the trees flanked by two more. She didn’t recognize them from the party who had broken into her chambers in Bolderfall. It was more likely they were local brigands.

“Nice catch, Orin.” Said the grizzled fellow. He was the oldest, and apparently the leader. Cordelia twisted her head and saw a somewhat heavyset fellow with a scar on one cheek had been the one to apprehend her.

“Now, ain’t you a pretty little thing?” Said the skinny leader, stroking his chin, “Little dusty and tired lookin’, but you’re definitely a _noble’s_ daughter. Get into a fight with daddy and run away?”

Cordelia glared flatly. They didn’t know exactly who she was, but had made out her class. The comment about her father was in poor taste, seeing as he was dead, but they had no way to know that. And probably no reason to treat a noblewoman with any pleasantry.

“If you promise not to go screaming your little head off, I’ll have my brother let go of your mouth, how’s that?”

Cordelia looked between all the men. The youngest appeared just a year or so older than her and the oldest- Orin’s brother, apparently- might have been in his late thirties. They were all openly armed.

What choice did she have? She nodded her head.

“Alright, let her talk, Orin.” Said the leader.

“Sure thing, Josef.” Orin’s voice was deep, brutish.

Cordelia took a deep breath first. It had been harder to get air with the large hand over her mouth.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any money or any family you could ransom me to,” She said. Best to be forthright about what she could offer them, wasn’t it?

Josef barked a short laugh. “Guess that would explain you bein’ out on your own in your nighties,” he allowed, “that much I can tell is the truth.”

“Well what good is she if nobody’s gonna pay to get her back,” asked the youngest of the quartet, “what do we do with her, boss?”

Josef paced around Cordelia to get a good look at her. His gaze was leering. She could see his eyes linger on her chest much longer than necessary and her stomach soured. “I think we can leverage something good out of her if we take her to the right place,” he finally said, “so bind her hands and gag her. We’re going to the Crow’s Nest.”

Cordelia wasn’t foolish enough to struggle. She had no weapon and no self defense training. All she could do was cooperate and hope they would treat her humanely. Scratchy, rough cord was tied tightly around her wrists and a dirty handkerchief was used to keep her from speaking. Once that was done the men pushed her forward. Orin kept one hand gripped on her arm so she couldn’t flee. The two younger thieves took up the rear while Josef led.

For hours they exchanged small talk about food and trinkets they planned to buy with their “payment” for Cordelia. She tuned it out to the best of her abilities, and focused on walking.

When they reached the next fork in the road, the men took the path deeper into the mountains and ravines rather than east to the forest like Cordelia would have. She despaired- she had suspected the Crow’s Nest must be whatever place the rumored thief king made his stronghold. Now her suspicion was strengthened.

The sun had reached its zenith and then just begun to descend again when she saw it ahead of them. The forest cleared into a deep ravine with a river running through it. At the falls from the higher cliffs she could see pathways made of wood and stone, windows carved into the mountainside.

Much of the architecture was ancient and rudimentary, likely from bird or lizard men who once inhabited the area and lived in the mountainside. But the newer buildings were manmade. Somewhat rough, but sturdy and painted here and there with cheap but vibrant pigments. A wooden boardwalk disappeared and wound behind the falls, and it was this pathway that the brigands took her on.

As they curved around behind the water, it sprayed and dampened them all. Cordelia winced at the cold. Torches lit the tunnel that appeared behind it, and they proceeded down it until they reached a set of double doors. Old stone, they were, but more recent carvings adorned them. Rough and unprofessional, but they were unmistakably the wings of a raven. Two men stood on either side.

“Halt,” Said one of them. The brigands did as they were told. “State your business, Josef.”

“We’re here to see the _little prince_ ,” Josef said. A hint of sarcasm laced the title. “We have something we think he’ll be able to get some _use_ out of.”

A look passed between the two guards. Cordelia noted the only thing resembling a uniform they shared was a simple purple kerchief around their necks.

“Is it the girl?” one of them finally piped up. There was something wary in his tone.

“Sure is,” Orin blurted. Josef elbowed him but kept a smile on his face. The guards looked at each other again.

“Reggie, take them inside.” said one of the guards at length, “We’ll see what our _king_ thinks of this little...gesture.”

The one called Reggie nodded and snapped his fingers. A spark of magic jumped from them, and the doors opened. He turned to look at them. He was in his early thirties, probably, average height and straight-backed, with his hair swept over one eye. “Come on,” he said, “And keep up.”

The brigands pushed Cordelia in ahead of them. They entered the Crow's Nest- whether Cordelia would see the light of day again was a mystery.


	2. The Crow's Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cordelia is brought to the thieves' stronghold, the Crow's Nest. What happens there is far from what she expects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wanted to get this chapter out as fast as possible- this is where we finally meet Therion(as well as Tressa and Alfyn!). Chapters will probably start slowing down more now but I'll still update as often as I'm able.

The inside of the Crow's Nest was more well lit than Cordelia expected. Magic lightstones were bolted to the walls and occasionally the ceilings, casting a bright yellow glow about the place.

The rough hewn tunnels and walls were smoothed by time in some places and refined by more skilled hands than a lizard man's in others. Humans had probably not been living here for even a decade, she mused as Reggie led them deeper into the fortress.

Some rooms still did not have doors. They appeared to mostly be public rooms for work, eating, or recreation. The furniture Cordelia spied was mixed, from various places. Some were the types of sofas and finery she knew her home in the Cliftlands or places like the kingdom of Atlas would have. But there were also low tables and cushions like the kind the Sunlands used. Much, she supposed, was stolen. Every so often they passed other people, but she had little chance to observe them. Many had purple kerchiefs like Reggie's though- a mark of the thief king's followers.

Eventually they came to a set of ornate wooden doors. They were a little damaged, and bolted onto the wall quite clumsily. Stolen as well, she guessed. Reggie saluted the guards casually.

“Josef and his gang brought him a...gift.”

The last word sounded sour from his mouth as he glanced back at Cordelia. The guards also grew stiffer in their stance, but they allowed them through, opening the doors.

The room beyond was larger and more open than any they had passed. Cordelia had not noticed much the stairs they had climbed, but now she looked to the right where open windows lined the room and looked out over the forest. They had come quite a ways up. Suddenly she felt fatigue taking her over again.

The entire room was furnished like a room might be in Marsalim in the Sunlands. Floor cushions, some ornate rugs and low tables, and some tapestries. Several people were strewn about, lounging or chatting. They all looked up as Reggie led the brigands and Cordelia to the room's center.

A girl caught her eye as they moved. She was small and petite, even more than Cordelia, but her face showed she was about the same age, in her early twenties. Her hair was a ruddy brown, pulled into a short tail, and a few freckles lined her face around her brown eyes. She seemed curious more than anything, but she sent a glower at Josef.

“What's that rat doing here again?” the girl bit out. It was loud, and a murmur of agreement rippled through the room. Josef's reputation was apparently not a good one.

“Settle down, Tressa.” said a male voice. Mid level baritone, and a little lazy. Cordelia followed to its source.

It was a man a few years older than her, but younger than Reggie. His skin was a light brown and he didn't seem to be very tall- but he was lounging on the cushions with a bottle of what she could only assume was spirits of some sort. A long purple scarf wrapped around his neck.

His eyes were very green, like emeralds- at least the visible one was. His left was covered by his messy, unkempt white hair. Plain hide trousers, dark leather boots...his shirt was loose, a smoky gray with gold cord fringing. The sleeves rolled up to bare strong forearms with many scars on them. Most were neat, short- cuts from blades, then.

“I don't want to settle down,” Tressa spoke up again, “We had to make a whole scene up in Everhold to get Alfyn out of the gaol because of him-”

“Tressa,” the man said again.

“Alfyn's the only honest man out of the lot of us and he goes and uses him as a scapegoat for his own botched burglary-”

“ _Tressa_.” Tressa quieted this time, but there was no real threat in the man's voice that Cordelia could tell.

The man stood. As Cordelia suspected, he wasn't very tall. But he had a strong looking frame and held himself with a casual confidence. As if no one in the room would dare move against him. Or perhaps as if he knew he could take anyone who tried.

“Reggie,” the man said, “Why _are_ they here?”

“A peace offering, so far as I can tell,” Reggie responded, but there was an angry look on his face. “The girl.”

Green eyes finally focused on Cordelia, and she squirmed under the calculating gaze.

She was small, not much bigger than Tressa. But unlike Tressa's fuller figure she was slight, slender, like a pixie. Not much in the way of curves. Pale from lack of sun(she burned even when she got any), hair as pale as bleached gold. Not a freckle in sight. Her eyes were blue, the light and airy one of a summer sky. By Cliftlands standards, at least, Cordelia had heard she was quite pretty. She tried not to put too much thought into it herself- and she likely looked a mess right now anyway. She hadn't slept or eaten in days. Bare feet, tattered nightgown and dressing gown.

“We thought you might find a nice _use_ for her, or something,” Josef spoke up. Casual, sickly sweet. Cordelia hated him.

“I didn't say you could speak,” Said the man in the scarf. Josef looked a little reluctant in response.

“We found her wandering around in your territory,” He tried again, “She was trespassing, and you could always-”

This time the man's gaze moved to Josef. It was cold and killer like a sharp dagger. Josef went stock still and silent and Cordelia felt his lackeys do the same.

“You brought me a _woman_ as a gift?”

The voice dripped with threat. Josef tried to speak up again but only sputtered clumsily.

“ _People_ are not possessions to be stolen, pawned, or bargained with. I think I've made my stance on that quite clear before.”

“I just thought...you know, Therion, I-”

Therion, as he was apparently called, put his hand on the hilt of a dagger at his side. “Get them out of my sight.” He said coldly.

“Hah!” Tressa barked from the side of the room. Josef and his men all stepped back hesitantly.

“Get them out of my lands, too. I don't want to see their sniveling faces again.”

Josef tried one more time to speak up. Therion stepped forward, clearly threatening.

“I'm being merciful right now, understand.”

Josef and his men stumbled over themselves as they scampered out of the room. Reggie followed with a smirk on his face, probably to make sure they really did leave.

Silence fell for a moment, tense and heavy. Cordelia stared at her hands. She was very tired, very hungry, very cold and very frightened. This Therion had obviously not appreciated the _gesture_ , if his conduct and words were to be trusted. But there was still no telling what he would do with her.

“Tressa, cut her binds and uncover her mouth.” he finally said. Tressa hopped up from her seat and scampered over to Cordelia. She stood up to Cordelia's ear. Very small.

When she took out a pocket knife, Cordelia flinched, but a kind and encouraging smile spread on her face.

“Don't be scared,” she said, voice gentle, “I'm just going to cut you loose. You aren't in any danger anymore, I promise.”

Hesitantly, Cordelia relaxed her shoulders. As she said, Tressa merely cut the ropes from around her wrists. She hadn't noticed how raw and bloody they were before. Less than a day in binds had left them like this. That done, Tressa put her little knife away and untied the gag from her mouth. Cordelia flexed her jaw and looked carefully up at the girl and Therion.

“Are you the king of thieves, then?” She asked. Cautious. Her voice was clear, but small.

Therion snorted. “That's what some call me.” He allowed, “And I supposed I _am_ the leader around here. But I'm no king.”

Cordelia nodded slowly. The things the public said did not always reflect reality, she knew. People loved rumors.

“She's not wearing any shoes,” Tressa said, “And she's in pajamas, but they're _expensive_. Are you a noble?”

The last words were directed at Cordelia. Too tired to lie, she nodded. “Cordelia Ravus. I am a noble- or was, I suppose.”

“Was?” Therion asked, still giving her a calculating stare.

“My house fell to a coup not four days ago,” Cordelia provided, “I know not the man, but I was...little more than a puppet of the more _seasoned_ nobles of the region. I have little reason to think the people had no hand in it.”

“You sound more ashamed than angry,” Tressa remarked idly.

“Well, I am.” Cordelia admitted. She did not elaborate. She doubted these people would care much for her reasons. Tressa and Therion exchanged a look. The others in the room were also gazing at Cordelia now.

“Well...like I said, I've no desire to keep a person as a possession.” Therion finally spoke, “So you're free to go, if you want.”

“Do you have anywhere to go?” Tressa added, “From the sound of it, going home isn't really an option for you.”

Cordelia smiled thinly. “Before I was brought here, I was considering going to the woodlands. I might be able to find a place to stay there, at least for the short term.”

Tressa nudged Therion. He nudged her back and she stumbled, but he sighed.

“I'm not exactly fond of nobles,” He said, “But you've done nothing to warrant any ill will that I know of, and you've nowhere else to go. That's exactly the kind of person we take in.”

Cordelia frowned, a little confused.

“What I'm saying is...” Therion held out a hand to her, “You can stay here, if you wish. You'll have to earn your keep just like anyone else- but if you're willing to work for it, you have a place here.”

Cordelia was not sure what to say. She already felt relieved knowing she would not be kept as a pet. In Bolderfall she had been little more than a puppet on a shelf. She had feared she would be a bird in a cage here, but it seemed the cage was being left open. A haven rather than a prison.

She was tired. Hungry. Weak- her legs were barely holding her up. The decision was an easy one.

“It's a generous offer,” She said, clasping Therion's hand tightly, “I accept.”

...Promptly, her legs gave way from under her with a wave of dizziness.

* * *

As expected of a band of rogues and thieves, there wasn't much panic when Cordelia collapsed- but they did make sure she was all right. Once Tressa heard she had not eaten in days she gasped(oh you poor thing!) and helped Cordelia walk to the huge kitchen. It also doubled as the meal hall because it was so large, and she sat Cordelia down and started rooting around for food while Therion leaned on the doorpost.

The kitchen was surprisingly well built- Cordelia supposed as she observed tiredly that it was one of the more tended to rooms in the Crow's Nest. There were even appliances inside that used magic to help preserve food. Runic inscriptions made the interiors of stone boxes cold.

There was no proper faucet for water like at her estate, but an aqueduct system did seem to run through the keep to help water be more easily accessible. Tressa collected some water from it in a mug and smacked it down on the table.

“We probably don't have anything like proper meals on hand right now, but I can probably manage some bread and cheese,” She supplied cheerfully.

“Anything is fine, really.” Cordelia said quietly, and took a ginger sip of the water. Her stomach was so empty that she was queasy now- but the liquid was cool and didn't taste dirty. Good.

“I've told the guards to fetch Alfyn over here for us too,” Therion spoke from the doorway. He had produced a red apple from somewhere and was snacking on it, “He'll be here quick as a wink once he knows someone needs looking after.”

“The one you had to spring from the gaol?”Cordelia asked, curious.

Tressa came over with a wooden tray. There was a small wedge of yellow cheese on it, several thick slices of bread and an apple the same variety as Therion was eating.

“Yeah,” She supplied, “Alfyn's a doctor, more or less. He's got his own story behind why he's here and I won't tell it without his permission but...he's not a thief or a criminal or a swindler like most of the rest of us.”

“I did hear you say something like that before,” Cordelia said. She pulled off a small bit of bread and ate it carefully. It would be best to go slowly until her stomach settled.

“He's a real nice guy, but he never stops talking to get ready to have your ear chatted off.” Tressa smiled.

Cordelia nodded in understanding and ate a little more. “I heard them call you Tressa?” She asked. Tressa still hadn't properly introduced herself, after all, and if she was going to be staying here Cordelia may as well start asking about the people who lived in the Crow's Nest.

“Oh! Yes, that's me.” she flashed a wink, “I'm not so seasoned a _criminal_ as some of the rugged men here, but I don't really have anywhere else to go either.”

She shrugged. “I got myself kicked out of my hometown, basically. They didn't want to make me leave, but I kind of ticked off the pirates that were taking the place over and that was their condition for not smashing everything to pieces.”

Cordelia frowned. “That must have been very upsetting regardless. I'm sorry you had to leave home like that.”

Tressa shook her head. “It's not your fault so don't apologize. I still get to send and receive letters from my folks and it seems like things aren't _too_ bad at home right now. If they get worse, Therion's assured me he'll stomp in with a gang from here and boot the pirates right on out. I just don't want him going to the trouble unless it's really necessary. I'm from all the way on the coast, so...”

Cordelia stifled a small laugh. Tressa seemed to enjoy talking, but she had a very upbeat personality. “It's nice of him to be looking out for you,” she remarked, giving him a look.

“I have to admit you're not what I expected, mister king of thieves.” she called.

Therion moved inside and sidled over to the table. His movements were lazy and fluid, like a cat's. “It's Therion,” He said, “I'm not too fond of the nickname.”

“Very well, mister Therion.” Cordelia corrected herself. Tressa laughed and Therion made a face.

“Don't call me mister either,” He huffed, then took a bite of his apple. “What _were_ you expecting? Aeber himself or something?”

“Not quite, but close,” Cordelia admitted. “To have accomplished so much at your apparent age is certainly startling. At the least I expected you to be much older, but you don't appear to be very far ahead of me in age.”

“I'm twenty-six,” Therion clarified, “And I don't tend to think about it much. Age doesn't have any bearing on your capabilities. It's your drive that matters.”

Cordelia hummed. “Five years older than me, then.” She remarked, “And...I don't entirely disagree with that statement, I suppose.”

“Not that you've accomplished much anyway,” Therion scoffed. Cordelia raised her brow in surprise at the scathing comment. He had been laid back so far, but not unkind. She couldn't disagree with him though, so she held her tongue. She let herself become a little puppet- there was no denying that.

Tressa elbowed him roughly. “Don't be a jerk,” She said in exasperation.

“It's all right,” Cordelia soothed, “He's not wrong. I was born into my status and never did manage to do much to earn my place there.”

“At least you're more self aware about it than most nobles,” Therion piped up, seeming unbothered by Tressa's interjection, “That already puts you at better standing with us than them.”

Cordelia hummed and picked at her food a little more. Her stomach was starting to settle now and it was easier to eat, but she looked up as she heard quick footsteps down the hall. In only moments a man burst into the doorway.

He was somewhat tall, much more than Therion at least. Broader in the shoulders and chest and stronger in frame. His skin was fair but sun-burnt and his face shaded by rough stubble. His hair, a golden brown, was tied messily into a tail that left his shorter bangs to fly wildly about his face- his eyes were a warm brown. Almost sad in their shape, like a dog's.

“I heard I have a patient,” he gasped, “Is she okay? They said she hasn't eaten in days, and-”

This must be Alfyn, Cordelia thought. Tressa waved him over.

“She's okay, we're feeding her.” remarked the girl, “Aside from that and some fatigue she doesn't seem _too_ much worse for wear. You might look at the place they bound her wrists, though.”

Alfyn sighed. Now that he was close Cordelia could see that Therion, who was barely average height, only came just above Alfyn's shoulder. The doctor- apothecary? Looked her up and down with furrowed brow.

“We need to get her into some warmer clothes too,” He announced immediately, “A shift and dressing gown aren't going to cut it out here, miss.”

Cordelia felt herself smile. “I'm sure I agree,” She said, “My name is Cordelia.”

“They filled me in- I'm Alfyn Greengrass,” Alfyn said, and shook her outstretched hand. His grip was firm but the shake itself was gentle. He was being careful of her wounded wrists, no doubt.

He sat down then, and placed the satchel at his side onto the table, taking out some basic implements like bandages and jars of salve. “Well, you're eating and hydrating, so that takes care of the hunger. And I'm sure we won't be putting you to task anywhere until you've had enough rest, so that's not a worry either.”

He glanced sideways at Therion to confirm this, and the thief nodded. “She won't be any help half exhausted,” he said.

“Good, good.” Alfyn said. Tressa pushed a bowl of water she had gathered over to him. Alfyn placed his finger inside and steam began to rise from it.

“You know some magic, I see,” Cordelia remarked.

“Mostly the menial kind,” Alfyn replied, “Most commoners know such things for enchanting lightstones or boiling water and such. It's combat magic that's more rare- but I know a little of that too. A couple of ice spells.”

He dipped some cotton in the water and held his hand out for Cordelia's. The hot water stung on her raw and torn skin at first, but dirt and rope fiber came away with each dab of the cotton. Cleaning things was certainly necessary, and if nothing else Alfyn's touch was surprisingly delicate.

He clicked his tongue and opened a jar. It smelled of menthol. “Some salve to help soothe it,” He supplied, “Can't believe they'd just tie such ratty rope around you like that. You poor thing.”

“What did you expect from a bunch of swindlers who used you as a scapegoat?” Tressa groused. Alfyn only laughed.

The salve also stung on initial application, but a cool feeling followed. “It'll also kill any bacteria and keep things clean. I'll have you change the dressings once a day,” Alfyn said as he finished by wrapping and pinning some gauze on Cordelia's wrists.

“Are your feet all right? No broken skin?” He asked, “I noticed you aren't wearing shoes.”

“Sore but otherwise fine,” Cordelia said, “thank you very much, mister Alfyn.”

Alfyn looked surprised for a moment, then a light flush covered his cheeks and he scratched the back of his neck shyly. “Shucks,” he drawled, “You don't have to call me _mister_. Just Alfyn is fine.”

“Once she finishes her meal get her some clothes, Tressa.” Therion spoke again, “And you,” he pointed to Cordelia, “You're not to wander around too much, until after you're rested. Tressa will find you an empty room to sleep in and something to do if you're bored, but you're no good to anyone fatigued. Understand?”

“I do,” Cordelia replied, “Thank you again.”

Therion grunted, stood, and left. Cordelia went back to eating and listened quietly as Alfyn and Tressa chattered on, mostly inane small talk about their hobbies or what they'd been up to before Cordelia had arrived that afternoon.

It was a relief, she decided, that the people here seemed easy to talk to. Therion was hard to get a read on, but at best she thought he probably just said whatever popped into his head without thinking much. There would be plenty of time to get settled though, she knew. If this was to be here home then that was guaranteed.

She sighed and bit into her apple.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cordelia begins her first real morning at the Crow's Nest after resting for the weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins Cordelia's life at the Crow's Nest. 
> 
> The beginning is a lot of talk developing some sexuality and gender headcanons because it...just sort of ended up that way. I like it as is, so I won't change that. Nothing wrong with a little world building.
> 
> Next chapter will be out ASAP. I hit a bump with this one in the middle because my life is not very stable right now and I needed a break. But I'm back to things!

The weekend passed in relative quiet for Cordelia, with Alfyn and Tressa as her only real company.

Tressa spent quite a lot of time in her new little room with her, fetching her things to keep her occupied and chatting away with her. Alfyn brought meals by and changed the dressings on her wrists every day, adding heavily to Tressa's chatter with talk of his own. The two were both very pleasant, kind people. According to Alfyn, he and Tressa were some of very few in the keep who weren't career criminals- but the Crow's Nest accepted all kinds of misfits, lawful or otherwise.

Therion did not come by at all during the weekend, not that Cordelia expected him to. It seemed the Crow's Nest functioned as its own little insular city now. The gang of thieves under Therion's leadership had accrued enough wealth that they could easily live comfortable lives from here on as long as they didn't use it wastefully, and so they had mostly retired from thievery. Some people still went on little “adventures” of their own, but many of those in Therion's gang had settled into life at the Crow's Nest nicely. They had taken up thievery as a means to survive. Now that they didn't need to steal anymore, there was no desire to unless it would alleviate _boredom_.

Still though, it seemed as if there was still plenty to do in keeping the place running. People needed to cook, tidying up needed done every so often, and a watch and guard was set to keep wanderers and travelers from trespassing. Many of the people living there were wanted criminals after all- it wouldn't do for bounty hunters or too many _regular sorts_ to be wandering through the area.

In addition, gardens and a few small terraced plots of farmland were located here and there, kept irrigated by the industrious aqueduct system that ran through the entire fortress and surrounding structures. People needed to tend those- and there were a few people versed in mundane magics that worked to make storage space designed to chill or dry and preserve food.

But everyone contributed. Whatever skillsets they had, they put them to use not only for their own sake but for the good of everyone in the Crow's Nest. It was sort of heartwarming really, even if Cordelia had only heard about it through word of mouth so far.

They did manage to find her some clothes, too. Her night-robe and shift were no longer in good condition, and not nearly warm enough for the chilly air of the region anyway, so Tressa had asked around and gotten a few sets that seemed like they would fit for Cordelia. They were a motley assortment of hand-me-downs, and much more practical and...well, masculine...than Cordelia was used to wearing.

She had never worn trousers before that weekend. It was a strange experience, but they were certainly warm, and it wasn't as if she had avoided them in the past out of distaste. She had simply never thought to wear them, as she hadn't an active lifestyle and rather liked dresses anyway.

But she had a few pairs now. One- the one she wore today- was brown, tanned hide. The others were wool and cotton respectively, in brownish grays. Tressa had acquired underthings for her- simple cotton, in blacks and whites, but well fit enough that they were comfortable. Some form fitting undershirts in monotones were also added to her small dresser, and finally some overshirts and loose tunics, most of which were a size too big, but that wasn't so much a worry with the undershirts on hand. They were all an assortment of linen or cotton as well. There was also a single, well worn woolen cloak in a muted green for her to go outdoors in. Tressa had mentioned looking for scarves and gloves later as well, but it wasn't quite cold enough to need them yet.

Still, Monday had arrived. And so rather than wait in bed for Alfyn to come perform his morning checkup, Cordelia was now pulling a teal tunic over her head. There was some beaded embroidery acting as fringing on the collar and sleeves, and the collar itself was almost wide enough to slip off her shoulders- thank goodness for the cotton shirt underneath, with its slim fit and long sleeves. Cordelia was fairly certain this garment had originally belonged to a man at least a head taller than her. But she was in no place to make complaints. She cinched a belt around her waist so the tunic would not billow or get in her way, and was reaching for her socks and boots when a knock came at her small bedroom's door.

“Ya decent?” Came Alfyn's voice.

“I am, please come in if you like,” she called in return.

The door open and Alfyn strode in with his first aid kit, but no breakfast. He wore the same green vest he always wore, over a brown waistcoat and white tunic. Tanned hide pants and clunky, knee high boots. He was a scruffy, rugged man in countenance so had she not known before meeting him that he was a healer, she would be surprised by the revelation.

His tunic today had a low collar, and Cordelia spied something familiar across his collarbone as he started setting out the things to change her dressings.

“A moonphase tattoo?” She asked, unsure.

She knew them, of course. While not common, it wasn't unheard of in Orsterra for a person to have their sex declared at birth but assert as another gender later on in life. For individuals who sought more masculine characteristics, the moonphase tattoo was a spellbind that flattened an already developed chest. It stretched over the collarbone in black ink, while muted red came underneath the pectoral muscles to mark the boundary of the permanent spell.

Alfyn looked up, as if he had completely forgotten about it. “Oh! Yeah.” He shrugged, “I was called a girl when I was born, but...well, that never really suited me, if you understand.”

“I can't say I do,” Cordelia said, “At least not on a personal level. But if you are happier as a man then that is who you are, is it not?”

Alfyn grinned. “Aye, that's the truth. Let me see your wrists, eh?”

Cordelia sat on the bed and Alfyn dragged the chair from her simple desk to look at her wrists.

“May I ask another question?” Cordelia said as he worked. She winced as he applied disinfectant to the still tender scrapes and cuts.

“Fire away,” Alfyn said cheerfully.

“I don't know much about...individuals like yourself. I've heard a bit, of course- in Bolderfall we call you butterflies, owing to the changes you go through, but I don't know if that's a... respectful term. And the moonphase tattoo is about all I know about the process.”

“We call it transitioning,” Alfyn supplied, “And most of us call ourselves butterflies too, so no worries on that.”

He wrapped her wrists in gauze again. “As for the rest...well, there's a sort of little tincture I make on my own dime, and I take it twice a month. I can't change...certain _things_ with it,” he coughed and Cordelia looked away awkwardly, “But, well, it lets me grow a beard. I started it soon enough that I grew more too, and it changes my voice. I'll probably keep takin' them for another ten years before the changes set in as permanent.”

Cordelia nodded in understanding. “I see. That certainly is quite the journey.”

She picked at her tunic. “The first person I was ever... _smitten_ with...was a girl.” She admitted, “So we aren't too far removed in similarities, you see. Although I... I have also been enamored with boys.”

“Swingin' both ways,” Alfyn laughed, “I'm the same. You're in good company here, little lady, don't worry. Tressa's got no interest in men at _all_.”

Cordelia smiled, “I see. ...Bolderfall is not exactly _traditional_ in its values. Love is meant for anyone it can be given to. But among the nobility, there is a certain pressure towards relationships that can produce a biological heir. I've always thought it silly, but it does put a bit of a stigma on things in comparison to those who haven't worries about their stuffy old bloodline.”

Alfyn's smile was wry as he stood and offered Cordelia a hand. “Blood's not what really makes family anyway, so don't you bother yourself over it. The folks _here_ are my family, but we ain't got a relative in common among us. And anyway, that life is behind you now, right?”

Cordelia bent to pull on her calf length boots. “It is.” She stated.

“Then what you do from now on is all up to you,” Alfyn encouraged, “Now c'mon. I didn't bring your meal today because I thought you'd be getting stir crazy. Come eat with me, Tressa and some of our friends.”

“I'd be delighted,” Cordelia smiled, and took Alfyn's offered arm.

The larger dining hall Cordelia had been to when she first arrived was their destination. According to Alfyn there was a group of people within the Crow's Nest who did some bulk cooking twice a day, but beyond that most people just fended for themselves using the massive kitchen and their own skills. There was never any real shortage of supplies because of the terraced farm plots in the area either, though things tended to be a little scarcer during the winter.

Tressa and two other women were seated near the door already when Cordelia and Alfyn arrived.

The first woman was small, about Cordelia's height with a rounder, fuller figure. Blonde hair fell loosely around her shoulders but was kept neatly out of her round face, showing warm brown eyes. She had a white staff leaned next to her seat, one of a design that many who practiced healing magic used. The shawl around her shoulders was thick wool with patterns Cordelia had seen in books about the now fallen kingdom of Hornburg. The country had been her family's place of origin centuries ago, but had fallen to a coup over a decade prior now. She knew not what had become of its infrastructure.

The other woman was taller, but not over average height. Her garb was a bit more revealing, but still suitable enough for the weather. The smooth, brightly colored cloth and the sashes about her waist suggested she was a performer of some sort. Her figure was that of an hourglass, and her skin was a deep tan. Most of her hair was kept back in a band, deep brown waves that fell down to the middle of her back, but bangs stayed about her face. Her eyes were a sharp, clear green and there was a beauty mark off of one corner of her mouth.

The taller woman was the firs to see them, and a warm smile- directed at Alfyn- spread onto her face. “There's our handsome doctor,” she greeted. Her tone hinted at teasing, and Alfyn turned a little pink.

“Howdy,” He greeted, almost demurely. Cordelia kept her face carefully neutral, but the look on Alfyn's face was unmistakably smitten. _How cute_.

“I see you've brought our _lady_ ,” Tressa said. She emphasized the title, but there was no vitriol in it. She patted the seat next to her and Cordelia took it gratefully.

“She's healin' up right well,” Alfyn said, sitting next to the woman who had first greeted him. “Cordelia, the little blonde gal is Ophilia, a refugee from Hornburg.”

The blonde woman- Ophilia- smiled sweetly and nodded. “I'm sorry to hear about your troubles, but I'm glad you're recovering,” She offered. Cordelia smiled in turn.

“That's very kind, thank you.” She said.

“And this lovely lady is Primrose,” Alfyn said, gesturing to the other woman, who was taking plates from a stack to set in front of him and Cordelia.

“Alfyn's my _beau_ ,” Primrose provided. Her tone suggested she was aiming for the flush that erupted on Alfyn's face, and the twinkle in her eyes suggested she was finding it rather cute. Cordelia found herself smiling wider despite herself.

“He's sweet,” Cordelia offered, “He's been very helpful.”

“He's too nice for his own good,” Primrose returned. She motioned to the platters on the table- seared vegetables, scrambled eggs, and toasted bread. Cordelia began to serve herself.

“W-well, that's what I've got you for, innit?” Alfyn said. He was serving himself hurriedly. “You watch my back.”

“Somebody has to protect you,” Primrose pinched his cheek, and returned to her food with a satisfied smile on her face.

“You two are obnoxious,” Tressa said in exasperation, “Get a room.”

Ophilia giggled and Cordelia stifled a laugh of her own. Alfyn and Tressa had endeared themselves to her already, but Primrose and Ophilia were not far behind. They were obviously a very close knit little group of friends.

The meal, though simplistic with only salt and pepper for spices, was delicious. Cordelia helped herself to seconds as she listened to Alfyn and Tressa banter over their own meals with Ophilia and Primrose chiming in on occasion. Primrose, finished eating, was holding Alfyn's right arm loosely.

Many of the people scattered about wore the same purple kerchief as the guards- even Tressa was wearing one today. Alfyn and Ophilia did not bear them, but those with them seemed unbothered by the presence of those without. The authority Therion bore was evidently not something people felt required to adhere to in any way. Not based on fear.

A few people did send glances at Cordelia. Some were a little sour. But she knew there was no reason for them to like or trust her immediately. Especially as she was a noble- and according to what she had heard, many of these people were career criminals. The reasons for their actions varied, but in general it seemed most of them had been driven by will to survive despite destitute circumstances. In comparison her life of little struggle must have seemed enviable- and even unfair. Cordelia didn't blame them. The wealth gap in Bolderfall had been horrible thanks to her ignorance. She hoped, privately, that whoever had led the coup would at least be better to the common folk.

Ophilia poured her a cup of coffee from a pot on the table and offered a smile. “There's cream and sugar if you need them,” she gestured to the little cups. Cordelia offered a smile in turn.

“I'm fine,” She said, and sipped the coffee black, as she always did.

“Try not to let the looks get to you,” Ophilia said, “They're wary of all newcomers. They'll know your character soon enough.”

Cordelia's shoulders tensed briefly at having been so well read, but then relaxed. “Thank you,” she said, “I'll do my best to earn their trust.”

Ophilia smiled and continued to sip her own coffee, which had been laden with cream.

It was only moments later that a few people hooted and hollered as Therion trudged tiredly into the room, looking like he had just rolled out of bed. His purple scarf was slung carelessly around his shoulders and his shirt was open. Cordelia spotted the mar of an ugly scar on the exposed part of his chest, and averted her gaze immediately.

“Morning, Therion,” Tressa greeted as he slunk over to their table. Therion grunted.

“The noble's here, I see.” He said idly. Cordelia bristled just a bit at being addressed as if not present, but pushed it down.

“She is,” Tressa said, “All rested up. She's looking a lot better now, isn't she?”

Therion gave Cordelia a once over, lingering just a bit on her face. “Dresses would probably suit her figure better,” He concluded.

Cordelia frowned.

“Don't be _rude_ , Therion.” Tressa huffed, “Honestly, she hasn't even said anything and you're picking her apart.”

Therion didn't seem particularly cowed by the scolding, but he did sigh. “Okay, fine. Good morning, Lady Ravus.” He said. It was touched in sarcasm, but at least it was a direct greeting.

“I'm not a noble anymore,” Cordelia corrected calmly, “But good morning to you too, Mister Therion.”

Therion grumbled something along the lines of _I'm not a mister_ and served himself. Ophilia poured him a cup of coffee, and Cordelia sipped some more at hers.

Therion spooned just a little sugar into his. “Well, you're up and around, so that means we should probably find something for you to do,” he remarked as he began to eat, “Do you have any work skills?”

“Not many,” Cordelia admitted, “I can certainly tidy up a room, and I can sew a little. I'm happy to learn anything somebody has time and patience to teach, though.”

“I can introduce her to H'aanit and she could help with meals,” Ophilia suggested.

“Better than nothing,” Therion said, “Can you defend yourself?”

Cordelia furrowed her brow. “Pardon?” she asked.

“This isn't always the safest place,” Therion explained, “But we're not here to be your bodyguards. If you can't fight then you need to learn, so we don't have to sit around and wipe your nose every time you so much as trip.”

She frowned at that. She'd never so much as thrown a punch, much less been in a fight. And she had merely fled when the fighting had come to her manor. “I can't defend myself,” She admitted, “But I don't disagree with your reasoning.”

“I'll teach her a few things,” Primrose offered, “She's too slight to use an axe or a sword, but she might be able to work around a dagger nicely.”

“Fine,” Therion said. He continued eating.

“So I'm to be working in the kitchen and learning self defense?” Cordelia asked, for confirmation.

“It looks like that's where you'll start,” Ophilia provided, “I'm sure we can find other things for you to do as you progress. Everyone does a little of everything around here, really.”

“It wouldn't do to load you up with all kinds of new things at once though,” Alfyn added, “Just take things one step at a time. You'll get used to it. And you'll like H'aanit. She's not much of a talker, but she's a mean cook and a good teacher.”

“I'll introduce you after breakfast,” Ophilia said, “You can help with cleanup.”

“And I'll give you a defense lesson this afternoon.” Primrose added with a smile.

Cordelia nodded and returned to her coffee. She reveled in its warmth. While the prospect of her new responsibilities was a daunting one, knowing more definitively what was expected her gave her a comfort. Breakfast continued and concluded without much more talk.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cordelia's first day of work continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cut this chapter off where it does because it will grow to be a monster otherwise. I know where I'm headed with Cordelia's first day, and it may take up to two more chapters to finish, but then we'll blur ahead a while.
> 
> We have more background characters introduced this chapter in Kit and Ali, and another background couple in H'aanit and Ophilia. I won't be putting tags for the background ships since they are not the main feature, but alfprim and haanilia are the main ones, fyi!

The dining hall slowly emptied and eventually even Therion and most of his companions departed leaving Ophilia, Cordelia and the assigned kitchen staff inside. Ophilia gathered her tableware and motioned for Cordelia to do the same and follow her.

They approached a tall woman with a strong build. Her hair, strawberry blonde, was pulled back into a neat braid that came down to her shoulder blades. She wore no kerchief, and...

And a snow leopard was sitting next to her having its ears scratched. Cordelia balked.

The woman spoke. “There is no need to be frightened. Linde will not harm thee.”

She turned. Ophilia placed her dishes in a large, deep basin and moved to embrace the taller woman warmly. Cordelia placed her dishes in the basin as well- it was full of warm, soapy water. She eyed the leopard, but she- Linde- merely blinked at her, calm and nonthreatening. She set a small wave at Linde, and the big cat yawned dramatically in response.

“This is H'aanit,” Ophilia said, having looped her arm with the taller woman's, “She's from the woodlands, and is a beastmaster.”

“I manage the kitchens here...loosely.” H'aanit offered a hand to Cordelia, who shook it. Her grip was strong.

“I'm Cordelia,” She offered politely, “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“The young miss who was brought in from the Cliftlands,” H'aanit concluded, “I offer my condolences for your struggles.”

“Thank you,” Cordelia returned.

“We thought Cordelia could probably be taught to help with the cooking and cleanup after meals,” Ophilia provided, “She hasn't any experience, but she says she's willing to learn.”

H'aanit nodded. “Very well. I shall see to her. Will you be joining us, Ophilia?”

Ophilia smiled. “Not this time. I've some rounds to make with Alfyn regarding some injuries. But I'll see you at dinner.”

With that, Ophilia bounced to her toes and pecked H'aanit right on the mouth before leaving to gather her staff and see to her other tasks.

H'aanit flushed just a little at the contact, and coughed.

“Are you two a couple?” Cordelia asked innocently as H'aanit turned.

“Only recently,” H'aanit said, “But yes.”

Cordelia did not push it any further. She had all the answer she needed. “I suppose washing the dishes and storing them again is what needs done,” She said.

H'aanit nodded. “Aye, and we'll sweep the floor as well.”

“I know how to use a broom, at least.” Cordelia offered with a smile. H'aanit offered one in turn, small and subdued.

“First the dishes. Please help me gather what was left at the tables.”

Three or four other people had remained to assist with cleanup, all wearing the purple kerchief that marked them as more formal subordinates of Therion. Cordelia did not catch their names, but they did not seem to mind her presence.

Soon enough all the dishes were piled to soak in the soapy water. H'aanit handed her a broom, and while things set the group tasked themselves with sweeping the floors. It took perhaps ten minutes with all five of them working. It did however kick up much dust, and Cordelia found herself fighting back many small sneezes by the end.

“Come,” H'aanit said, and Cordelia followed her to the wash basin. H'aanit held up a sponge. “Cleaning tableware is very simple, I am sure you have gathered. You need only scrub it clean. This part I will do- another will rinse them and another two will dry. You will assist Kit in putting things away. I think it is best you first learn where everything is stored.”

Cordelia nodded and a young man several inches taller than her stepped forward. He appeared to be near her age with long blonde hair pulled into a tail and blue eyes. He was slight of frame and offered her a gentle smile.

“I'm Kit Crossford,” He offered his hand and she shook it. “Don't worry about keeping up. Washing the dishes is usually a laid back sort of chore.”

She nodded, and they went to work.

As Kit had said, it was not a complicated activity. Dish washing appeared to be simple busy work. H'aanit scrubbed food and grease off the dishes, one of the other workers dunked them thoroughly in the rinsing basin and shook them off before handing them over to be dried. Kit showed her the wooden cabinets lined along the wall. One stored plates, the other cups, and both had a drawer each where cloth napkins and cutlery were stored. In about half an hour this task was finished, and the larger cooking implements were started on.

H'aanit called Cordelia over for this, to help her scrub and familiarize her with the cooking equipment. As they moved through, she showed her how to safely handle the knives while cleaning, and also explained how she would hold them and her empty hand while cutting things like meat or vegetables. She pointed to the pots, pans and skillets and explained their functions and what sorts of things they were usually used to prepare.

With her sleeves rolled up, her hands quickly grew pruny from the water. There was more grime on some of the cooking equipment- they were apparently a bit behind on cleaning it. H'aanit took the tougher ones and left the easier scrubbing to Cordelia's slighter frame. It was harder work than she was used to, but something about it was cathartic and satisfying. She could cast her thoughts and worries aside and merely focus on the motions.

It took another half hour to finish scrubbing all the pots and pans and put them away. Cordelia was thankful to finally dry her hands on the towel offered by H'aanit, but happy to have made herself useful.

“You learn quickly,” H'aanit remarked as she guided Cordelia out of the kitchen, “At least for the basics.”

“I will endeavor to remain a good study on more involved tasks as well.” Cordelia said with a smile, “Thank you for the praise.”

H'aanit offered a small quirk of her mouth, not really a smile but a pleasing expression nonetheless. “Thou art a finely mannered person,” She said, “I will show you to food storage and teach you some things there, if you will follow me.”

Cordelia nodded and followed, rubbing her still pruny fingers together as they walked and taking note of every turn.

Their path took them far from the kitchen and low into the fortress where the lighting was dimmer and the walls were damp. The smell was like petrichor under the mountain like this, but not musky and ill kept. The cooler temperature had her rubbing her arms to stay warm, however.

They entered a room through a sliding stone door that was lit very dimly and a sight cooler than the rest of the keep. Cordelia noted around the walls that there were runes inscribed in the stone. They glowed, the same kind of inscriptions that controlled the temperatures of the crates up in the kitchen where smaller amounts of food were stored. The entire room was enchanted- _fascinating_ , she thought. She wondered who had done it.

“At the start of each morning we plan the day's meals,” H'aanit said, “And take what is needed for their preparation upstairs. We make plans for those who would eat outside of mealtime and prepare smaller foods for them as well. Bread, cheese.”

She gestured to the many shelves in the room. Each row was labeled with a food category. Fruits, vegetables. Grains, dairy, meats. Liquids for cooking and liquids for drinking. Finally, several large casks over which a sign labeled _spirits_ hung, along with a shelf full of bottles.

“Most of our stock is kept down in here, however.” H'aanit informed, “Tell me, what do you like to eat?”

Cordelia blinked away from gazing about the room, surprised by the question. Of course the cooks at her home always adjusted to any whim she might have, but she hardly expected that treatment here, and her plans had been to simply eat what was in front of her. Beggars can't be choosers, and she was reminding herself constantly that she was no longer a person of any note.

“Savory foods,” She answered vaguely, “Sweet foods too. I am not deeply attached to highly spicy things, but I do enjoy them from time to time.”

“Giveth me something specific,” H'aanit urged, “We will make it tonight, as your first lesson. Thou wilt enjoy cooking more if there is opportunity to make your favorites.”

A sudden grateful feeling swelled in Cordelia. H'aanit was thoughtful and accommodating, despite her somewhat stiff disposition. She smiled, and put some real thought into it before finally replying.

“I'm deeply fond of apples,” She said honestly, “But specifically, I love coffee cake with apples and cinnamon in it. Is that something we can make?”

H'aanit smiled, and nodded. “Aye, 'tis easily enough done. It will make a fine dessert. Follow me, and we will procure the ingredients and take them to the kitchen before I free thee for the afternoon.”

They gathered many things. The apples and cinnamon of course came first. The cinnamon was ground up already, stored in small tins. While H'aanit gathered eggs and milk, she bid Cordelia to choose a basket of whatever sort of apples suited her fancy most.

“Thou art not alone in being fond of them,” She remarked as Cordelia marveled at the selection, “Therion eats them by the dozen, I am sure.”

Cordelia looked at them carefully, tucking the information about Therion away. She knew very little of him right now, but hearing that he had foods he favored made him seem much more tangible. Less like a mystery and more like a person.

She settled on a basket full of apples of mottled red and green both on one fruit. She had seen them in an orchard as a young girl when apple picking with her parents. She could not recall the name of the variety, but the particularity of the coloring and the fine taste had always stuck with her. “These will do, I think,” She said.

“Northern spy apples,” H'aanit noted with amusement, “That is their name. They are good for desserts. You have chosen well.”

H'aanit used a crate to carry most of the ingredients and had Cordelia transport the basket of apples. They moved through the halls again and back to the kitchen, where Kit and another boy were already beginning to bring out some preliminary tools for cooking supper.

“Kit, Ali.” H'aanit greeted.

The boy next to Kit was wiry and short, with a weathered face full of freckles and deep, bushy black hair held back by a purple kerchief like the one Kit wore around his neck. His eyes were a dark gray, and full of mischief.

“Heya chief,” said the boy called Ali, “Is this our fresh meat?”

“Be nice to her,” Kit said in warning, “She's not Tressa, you can't just pick on her all the time.”

Cordelia let a short giggle out. “Thank you Kit, but I'm quite all right. He hasn't even said anything yet.”

Kit smiled wryly. “He will,” He remarked, “Everything Ali says is in search of a punchline. You can just hit him if he crosses the line. He can take it.”

“Hey, don't go telling people to sock me,” Ali said, but his mouth was in a sloppy, crooked grin. “Besides, I'll behave myself. She's a _lady_ , after all.”

“Not anymore,” Cordelia corrected, “But your good manners are still very appreciated.”

“See?” Ali said, elbowing Kit, “She _appreciates_ me.” Kit only rolled his eyes in response.

H'aanit guided Cordelia to help her stow the ingredients for the coffee cake. “With that, thou art free to go until late afternoon. Five is the time we begin meal preparation,” She informed, “I do believe Primrose wanted to give thee a self defense lesson. Kit, might thee escort her to the training grounds?”

Kit nodded.

“I'll come too. I need to brush up on the basics,” Ali said. H'aanit nodded and Ali offered his arm to Cordelia with a sly grin. “Milady,” He chirped. She laughed and took his arm. The three of them moved out into the hall and up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the support and patience with how slow this chapter came. my situation is really unstable right now and has been since the beginning of the year, but it's finally improving again so I'm feeling up to writing a bit more! I am safe, please don't worry, it's just been a lot of stress with family issues(which are slowly being resolved! it's mostly illness related, nobody is in danger.)


End file.
